Lasting Legacy
by Necrosharpe
Summary: Shane's past has had such a profound effect on her life I decided to explore it. Her troubled childhood provided a legacy which she may not be able to escape.
1. Time to Leave

I do not own the L Word or any of the characters: This story is based on some of Shane's revelations through the series but the rest is entirely fictitious

. Contains some spoilers from series 1-4. Please read and review if you like or hate it. Comments help me improve :D_  
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_Flashback – __Season 2 Episode 13_

Jenny looked deep into Shane's eyes; there was a new found seriousness about her expression.

"Do you remember what happened to you as a child that makes you not wanna …"

"No, no, whoa."

But Jenny interrupted, "no, no seriously hear me out. Do you remember the shit that happened to you as a child that makes you not want to trust people as an adult?"

Shane paused for a moment. "Yeah I probably do."

Jenny looked hard back at her. "Well then you're fucking lucky."

_End Flashback – _

As Shane drove back in the late night traffic her mind was elsewhere. It had been a provocative question Jenny had asked her and Shane felt uncomfortable. Her mind flashed back to the past. As her hands went on autopilot steering the Toyota truck to the only place she had ever called home, her mind went back to a dingy kitchen and the smell of dogs which hung in the air.

"Shane! Shane!" The harsh voice screamed through the kitchen.

The ragged and dark haired teenager looked down at her feet in disgust._What now_ she thought as she turned to face her foster mother standing in the doorway looking furious. Her squat frame filling the doorway, rolls of fat escaping from her dirty dress as she wiped her hands through her short gray hair.

"What the hell do you think your playing at you little bastard," she spat out.

Shane looked up at the woman in disgust

"I don't know what you mean," she replied mildly her face held in its usual expressionless gaze.

"What do I mean!" Sharon roared "I was at the store when I hear stories of the little brat I have taken into my home involved in grievous sin…with other girls!"

Shane continued to say nothing. This was apparently too much for her foster mother. She strode into the room and slapped Shane hard across the face. Shane although not unaccustomed to being hit was still surprised by the force of the blow. She collapsed backwards, sprawling across the grubby floor. In the backyard the dog began to howl as pain exploded across her cheek. She said nothing however, she had shed too many tears in this house already. Sharon lent over her, her face practically against her own. She could see the stained yellow teeth and felt the rancid breath over her.

"You dare to take your disgusting habits out into my neighbourhood. This is a house of God!" She pointed up at the simple wooden crucifix mounted on the wall. "Your mother abandoned you because you weren't good enough, like a bitch who knows there is a runt in the litter. Now get out of my sight you revolting dyke!"

Sharon began to raise her hand but Shane didn't need telling twice, she ran upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her locking and bolting it tight. It was only after completing this act that she allowed herself to lean against the doorframe and catch her breath. Slowly she slid to the floor, slipping down like butter. Even now she could feel her face swelling up and the prickle of tears in the corner of her eyes. Summoning all her strength she pulled herself up and to her feet, making her way slowly over to the cracked bedroom mirror. A dark haired surly teenager stared back at her. The cold blue eyes were expressionless, watching the sallow pale skin already puff and bruised.

This had to be it, she decided. Making her way over to the bed she bent down and pulled a battered rucksack from beneath it. It smelt pretty bad but Shane didn't care, this was the last time she was going to cower before anyone. Pulling out the bedside cabinet she stuffed her few worldly possessions into the bag. At the bottom of the draw was a tattered photo. The smiling woman in the picture stared back with the two dark haired children clasped under each arm. A small spaniel lay at the girl's feet, head cocked to one side. Shane stared down at the strangers looking back at her, their cheery smiles painted on blank faces. In the end she carefully folded the photo and placed at the bottom of the backpack. Just as she was taking one last glance around the room she heard the familiar sound of her step father's truck. _Shit_ she thought, looking out the window she saw him roll in the front door stumbling as he did. She could hear voices below, raised and then the thump of her foster-father's heavy footfall on the stairs. The ground was a long way down but it was a risk she was prepared to take. As she wrenched the window open she could taste the cold wind that forced its way into the room. Here goes nothing she thought and with that Shane closed her eyes and jumped.


	2. An Idea Takes Root

Shane hit the ground hard. Above her she could see the dim light shining out from her bedroom window. The trickles of light fighting for their freedom as they battled their way under the drawn curtains. The darkness surrounding the house seemed to encapsulate everything of her childhood. The house cut a lonely figure in the shadows, merging into the encroaching night. With one last look back at her old life she grabbed her backpack and began to run, paced at first but then wildly flinging her legs forwards as she pushed every fiber of her being into forward drive.

Shane stopped at the bus garage down near the west side of town. Her heart was pounding and it felt ready to explode though her chest. She looked around quickly, there were a few hooded teenagers huddled in a corner while an old tramp dozed peacefully on a bench. Shane was tall for her age but she was still apprehensive about purchasing her ticket. Smoothing back her long ponytail and pulling herself up straight she marched over to the ticket booth. Twenty eight dollars later she sat on the back seat of the bus in a dream, destination: Santa Monica Boulevard.

What am I doing? Shane thought to herself as she watched the trees and gas stations flash past her window. She only had two dollars left of the little cash she had snatched from her bedroom and that certainly wasn't enough to feed a hungry teenager. She rustled in her backpack. She had packed so hurriedly that she had not really planned what she would take. Under the black sweatshirt and some miscellanious clothes was a sandwich wrapped in paper of an indeterminate age. Then something caught her eye, she was watching the two men a few rows ahead of her. They had sat in separate seats originally but now where sitting next to each other, heads bent low in intense conversation. Their voices were low and hushed, for Shane her curiosity got the better of her as she sat watching intently. Then the tall, dark haired guy who had initiated the conversation stood up suddenly. He made his way over to the small cubicle toilet at the back of the coach but Shane noticed….he didn't lock the door. Looking forwards again she caught a glimpse of the fair haired man. He waited a moment, cool and calm before standing suddenly and then casually disappearing into the cubicle also.

Shane was astonished, she looked quickly around the coach but no-one else seemed to have noticed. There was an old woman at the back of the bus snoozing lightly, a rough woollen hat pulled down over her head. The other passengers were occupied in books and some were attempting to sleep. Inside her head Shane knew what she had just witnessed, but still she could not believe it.Something inside her was fascinated by the smoothness of the transaction.

"Tickets please,"

A tall, dark haired man with a list was walking down the coach. He stopped at Shane. Shane, pulled her hood further down her face. The last thing she wanted was to be questioned about her age or destination. However she needn't have been afraid as the representative of the coach firm seemed to be preoccupied with other matters.

"Ticket please," he repeated, wiping a sleeve across his sweating face.

"Urrh, yeah sure here." Shane passed over the ticket glancing back over her shoulder at the toilet cubicle. The door was vibrating slightly. The man after examining the ticket, glanced over to the toilet and snorted.

"Can't even hang on for five hours," he muttered under his breath. Before shuffling back towards the head of the coach.

Shane sat back in her seat, feet kicked up onto the back of the seat in front of her. It was so easy. Whatever that guy had said it had some kind of magic spell attached to it. Their conversation had lasted only a few seconds at most. Turning her head she could see the door of the cubicle slowly open and the blonde haired man emerged. Tucking his shirt back into his pants he sat down in a different seat at the rear of the bus. The dark haired guy then also emerged, but he bent to the floor picking something up. Shane couldn't stifle her gasp; it was a roll of twenty dollar bills. The dark haired guy ran his thumb through them and then quickly stuffed them into his pocket. He made no eye contact with the blonde haired man but returned to his original seat and began to read a newspaper. Shane watched him for a few more minutes, but the adventures of the evening had left her exhausted and soon she could not fight the weight of her eyelids any longer.

She didn't know how long she slept, but awoke in darkness. The bus had stopped and pulled up at the garage. Peering out into the darkness Shane sat awe struck as the lights flashed across the night sky. It was a fresh start and time for a new beginning as she grabbed her rucksack and scrambled out into the street and followed the lights down the road.


	3. Chapter 3

Lasting Legacy: Chapter Three

Lasting Legacy: Chapter Three

Santa Monica boulevard was a place of bright lights, noise and people. It sucked in tourists and residents drawn to the lights and entertainment that could be offered by its shops and film studios. Shane collapsed into the shelter offered by a doorway and watched the world fast forward around her. Santa Monica had experienced a huge boom in tourism in the 80's and the density of people who graced its streets was ever increasing. Even now at this late hour people were still bustling up and down the sidewalks. Some carried huge shopping bags and others were congregating around the selection of street performers which graced the pedestrian only areas.

Shane however continued to sit huddled in the doorway, desperately trying to keep herself warm. The darkness although held back by the bright lights bought with it a tide of coldness that no amount of shivering and jiggling could protect her from. It was not a particularly cold night, the natural climate of Los Angeles saw to that, but away from the protection of the four walls of a house and her own slender frame it was impossible not to shiver. Wrapped in a small ball beneath her hoddie she pulled the crumpled photo from the bottom of her backpack. Flipping it over she looked at the name scribbled onto the back.

_The Welcome Centre, Santa Monica Boulevard. _ That was where she needed to be. Her mother had to be there. This was the last connection she had to a past she barely remembered. However the smiling family grinning back from the photograph was the physical realisation of a memory that she thought long gone. Pulling herself to her feet she made her way down the road looking for someone, anyone who could help her. Turning a corner she crashed headlong in a pedestrian coming the other way.

"Hey,"

"What?" Shane retorted angrily.

"You should slow down, we don't live life in fast forwards now."

Shane looked confused. The person she had crashed into turned out to be a middle aged man. His hair a dark brown, cropped short and beginning to grey at the temples.

"I don't have time to slow down," Shane replied,

"Somewhere you have to be?" The man looked enquiringly down at the piece of paper, his kindly eyes skimming over the scribble, "is that the address?"

"Yeah, something like that."

The man looked and squinted at the scribbled lettering on the back of the photograph. "Hum," he frowned then his brow creased into recognition. "The Welcome Centre, that's just a few blocks from here. Just head down the street, you can't miss it."

"Um, thanks" Shane added then turned and began to head down the street.

"Oh and hey,"

Shane turned to see the guy staring after her.

"Just take care of yourself ok, this is an unforgiving city." Then without another word he had gone.

Around the corner was the Welcome Centre. A tall crumbling building incongruous with the rest of the bright lights and buzz of the city. The building was extremely dilapidated The big side windows were shuttered with metal slats whilst the neon sign welcoming all inside was buzzing with its last effort to stay lit. Its entrance advertising a walk in clinic for those wishing to recover from the effects of drink and drugs. As Shane made her way to the entrance she could hear the noise of laughter from within. The warm light somewhat comforting against the surrounding blackness.

Outside a small scrawny girl was handing out leaflets and offering words of welcome. She smiled at Shane as she approached and proffered one of her pamphlets towards her.

_NEED A FRIEND TO TALK TO? WELCOME TO THE WELCOME CENTER! DROP IN ANY TIME FOR A CHAT. WE ARE ALWAYS HERE TO LEND AN EAR. _

Shane glanced down at the paper and then crumpled it to the flood. Aware of the eyes of the girl watching her Shane stopped to pick up the paper and stuffed it into her pocket. The scrawny girl smiled back at her.

"Thanks, I have to pick up the trash before I go home."

"That's ok." Shane replied.

"Are you here to see someone?" The girl asked and then blushed. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked that."

"Yeah its alright, I'm looking for a friend…Jamie McCutcheon. But she may be using another name." Shane shrugged realising that this information was not exactly helpful.

The girl looked thoughtfully back at Shane her eyes scrutinising her closely. "Ok." She said. "I will see what I can do."

She moved closer to Shane, bending her head slowly towards her. Shane could smell her perfume, its faint floral fragrance clinging to her skin. The tension for a second was palpable, but then she merely whispered in Shane's ear, "I'm not really supposed to do that you see. But…" At this moment she looked deep into Shane's eyes, "I think for you I will make an exception."

Shane merely nodded and followed her inside. Suddenly the girl turned and faced her.

"I'm Meredith by the way."

"Shane…just Shane," Shane replied.

As Shane followed Meredith into the main foyer she wondered why she was so reluctant to reveal her identity. She had made the desperate journey to track her mother down. Maybe it was the resentment of the woman who had abandoned her to a series of foster homes, or was it just that she was ashamed? Shane didn't know, she watched Meredith walk off gesturing at her to take a seat. Although dressed in a loose fitting T-shirt and a pair of dirty denims which had seen better days, there was something about her. Something Shane found irresistibly cute. The wait seemed forever, stretched out by the fact that Shane was alone with her thoughts. Eventually Meredith returned with a tall, broad shouldered man who she introduced as Dominic Warren. He extended a hand to Shane who merely nodded and did not bother to return the gesture.

"Hi Shane, if you would like to follow me, it might be best if we talk in my office."

Closing the door behind him, Dominic gestured towards a plastic chair at a small table. The office itself would have served better as a prison. It was spartan apart from the small table with two plastic chairs seated either side of it. However for what the room lacked in décor, Dominic had made up for in posters. The walls were covered with leaflets and flyers for various counselling centres and help lines to help kick various habits. In the centre taking pride of possession was the obligatory poster of a kitten dangling from a branch with the words 'hang in the there' inscribed above it.

"Twiglet?" Dominic offered the bowl towards Shane, who eyed it hungrily but remained silent.

"About Jamie McCutcheon?"

"Oh right," at this point he raised an eyebrow. "Are you a friend?"

"Yeah, something like that…look I was told she would come here when she wanted to get clean."

"Yes, that's true. She often came here when she was pretty bad. In fact Meredith who you met earlier was the only one she would really talk to."

"Oh." Shane looked straight ahead staring in Dominic's eyes.

"Well, I am guessing as you are here you don't know." He lent back in his chair and drew a hand over his face pinching his nose as he did so.

"Know what?"

"Well. She admitted herself about three months ago, it was probably the worst I had ever seen her. She stank of booze and had somehow staggered here. However she stayed for about two weeks and was showing signs of real improvement. Then…" He paused. Drawing himself in an upright position in the chair. "I don't know what happened, she may have had a letter or seen someone. Either way we were woken up one night to a commotion and Jamie had one of our patients held hostage with a broken bottle. She escaped with around 30 and some of our prescription medication." He laid his hands flat on the table and sighed. "I'm afraid we could never re-admit her now as a patient, far too high risk and we only have limited resources here…"

Shane nodded despondently. She had expected bad news, in fact her mother had always been bad news but this was like being punched in the stomach.

"Thanks." She said abruptly and stood up to leave.

Shane was frustrated. What Jenny had said earlier had played on her mind. Even after she had turned the Toyota truck home she had felt rattled. Reliving past memories was an unpopular activity for her. Keep busy, keep you head down and most importantly don't ever slow down. That was the way to keep you ticking along. It stopped you getting hurt. The past few days had seemed like a blur, however something today had been playing on Shane's mind. It had been at work with Veronica. The old bitch had been ranting and raving but Shane had not been listening. She had no time for those who pulled rank or tried to exercise authority over her. Yet Veronica had said something, something which had pierced that impenetrable armour she always wore.

_Flashback – Season 2 Episode 5 _

"I wasn't offended, it was fucking impressive", Veronica stood up at this point and moved over to Shane. "And frankly unprecedented."

"Hows that?" Shane looked confused.

Veronica merely grinned, "Elisa Nero is notorious for holding up productions for hours on end. You were able to calm her down in five minutes."

"It really wasn't that hard." Shane replied nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. She really wasn't in the mood for this right now.

Veronica looked hard into her eyes. "You went on instinct right?"

"Yeah I guess I did."

"You ever thought about doing it for a living?"

The question caught Shane off guard, "I don't know what you mean, I do hair." She said as if explaining a simple sentence to a child.

"You know how to talk to people." Veronica added a new note of seriousness in her voice. "That is a very rare and special skill. I am always interested in people with rare and special skills."

_End Flashback _

Outside the Welcome Centre the darkness had closed in, dimming even the flickering lights of the city. Shane felt lost. She had no money, nowhere to go and no food. If the future looked bleak before it looked bleaker now. She pulled the crumpled photograph from her pocket and angrily tore it in two. She instantly regretted it but for the moment the rage against the sheer injustice of her situation was too much to bear. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

Shane turned, fighting back the tears to see Meredith standing beside her. She grunted.

"Look Shane I'm staying in a hostel nearby, do you need somewhere to crash?"

Shane looked at Meredith, she was obviously struggling with something. She decided to put her out of her misery

"Yeah thanks….." then after a moments pause, "that's sweet of you."

She saw Meredith's face flush and the pair made their way down the sidewalk into the distance.


End file.
